


Cruel Summer- an excerpt

by Fortheloveofhillary



Category: Billary - Fandom, Hillary - Fandom, Relationship - Fandom, the clintons - Fandom
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-09 04:51:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fortheloveofhillary/pseuds/Fortheloveofhillary
Summary: It's August 1998 and Bill has some heartbreaking news to deliver to his wife. Bedroom confrontation scene.





	1. Cruel Summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [purplelacemoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplelacemoon/gifts).



> This is just an excerpt from a work in progress. A somewhat long scene. But I wanted to get something up here before continuing. I really appreciate any feedback. Please don't judge too harshly as this is my first work of fiction in years. Getting my literary legs under me. LOL

                                                                                                                         “Cruel Summer”  
                                                                                                                         

August, 1998  
           Bill quietly entered their bedroom nestled in the second floor private living quarters and headed toward the bed. As he passed the vanity, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. As he studied his reflection, he couldn't help but note what a façade it was. He had on a thousand dollar suit, was well-groomed. He looked the part of President- a winner who had it all together. But President Clinton didn't feel much like a president- or a winner this morning. Soon, he thought, they're all gonna know what a mess I really am. As he approached the bed, he felt an instant tug at his heart. It was clear his wife had been thinking of him when she crawled into bed the night before. Covered to her waist with the white top sheet, Hillary was sleeping soundly. She was dressed in one of his white button up shirts with her left arm draped over her “replacement” pillow as she called it. Both the shirt and the pillow were habits she’d picked up in response to having to learn to sleep without him regularly. They both went to great lengths to sync their schedules and maintain as much of a normal marital and family routine as possible, but the outside world and its demands rarely allowed them the luxury of domestic normalcy. While Bill and Hillary were often able to secure time for family dinner with Chelsea in the early evenings, nights with an opportunity to sleep together were more elusive. The lack of time together was one of the many regrettable aspects of the workaholic nature of a presidency. It was a high honor to serve but it came with a substantial personal price that took a toll on a marriage. That lack of time, he supposed, was at least partly to blame for the trouble he found himself in now.  
Easing himself down on the mattress beside her, Bill gently took her left hand in his. He ran his thumb lightly over her smooth knuckles and circled it around the sparkling diamond wedding ring he’d placed on that finger so many years ago. His heart panged in his chest as he remembered the vows he’d made that day in the yard of their first home in Fayetteville, Arkansas. There, in front of their closest loved ones, he promised to love, honor, and cherish her until death parted them . To forsake all others and share himself only with her. While he’d done fairly well in keeping with the former, he’d failed miserably in the latter. He only wished he knew why. As he reflected on happier and simpler times, he gently brought her hand up to his lips and held it there for several moments. He could smell the lightly faded scent of her lotion as he took in the feel of her soft skin. He wanted to savor all he could of her essence for fear it might be the last time he had the chance.  
Hillary did not immediately awaken despite his touch and he was grateful for the extra few minutes of peaceful quiet and comfort with her. He looked down at her face and noted how beautiful and at peace she looked as she breathed deeply in a slow, steady rhythm. Love and longing stirred deep within his heart and he fought a strong urge to lean down and kiss her lips. Under the circumstances, it seemed inherently inappropriate and he honestly felt unworthy of it. The degree to which he wished he was here for a different reason was impossible to overstate. His mind searched for a way to delay this conversation but that was an impossibility. He’d already agreed to address the nation the day after tomorrow and leaks were a real possibility. If he waited any longer his own wife would likely learn of his transgressions via the press. That was a cruelty he refused to allow no matter how difficult it might be to tell her himself. At the very least, he owed her the decency of a personal confession and an opportunity for a private emotional reaction.  
He couldn’t help but think about the fact that on any other Saturday morning, this moment would be different- so wonderfully different. Until now, Saturday mornings were a ritual they looked forward to each week- one of the rare times they could spend time as a couple. He would bring her breakfast in bed and they would spend the morning enjoying each other. Sometimes they’d read the newspaper together, discussing and debating the merits of each story- particularly the ones written about themselves. Other times they would entertain each other cracking jokes and laughing about the latest follies of their beloved staff, the more comical aspects of the latest Republican attacks on them, or Chelsea’s latest teenage shenanigans. Then, of course, there were those extra special mornings. The ones when he would quietly slip under the covers next to her and slowly wake her by covering her half- naked body with kisses, touches, and caresses. She would awaken already aroused and ready for him. And on those sacred mornings they made sure the lovemaking lasted for hours. What he wouldn’t give to have that intimacy, warmth and safety with her now.  
Hillary began to stir, pulling him from his nostalgic reverie. Bill leaned forward and gently raked his fingers through her silky hair, gingerly tucking a few stray strands behind her ear. “Hill?” he said softly. A moment passed before her eyes fluttered half-open. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, alerting her to his presence. “Hi”. He greeted with a small smile.  
Half conscious, she managed to return a warm, if weak, smile that widened as she turned her head slightly to meet his eyes. Seeing his handsome face when she woke up was a pleasure she cherished. “Hi” she managed, her voice strained and whispery. She yawned and rolled on her back to stretch her body, but kept her hand in his. “What time is it?”  
Bill checked his watch. “Just about eight”, he replied.  
“Eight?” Hillary asked a bit surprised. She never slept in that late. She closed her eyes again for a moment and sighed. “Wow. I must’ve really fallen out. This entire week has been so chaotic. I was exhausted.”  
Bill nodded. “You worked really late last night from what Huma told me.”  
“She’s here now?”  
“No, not now. She was here earlier to drop off some papers for you. They’re on your desk. She told me you were still working when she left about one this morning.”  
“Yeah”, Hillary rubbed her face with her free hand and yawned again. “I lasted until about two, I guess…I really hope Huma gets some sleep today herself. She’s been working so hard. My whole team has.” She sighed heavily as she reflected on the grueling schedule she and her Hillaryland staff had been wrestling with over the past couple of weeks. “There’s just so much going on at once. We’re trying to tackle it all as best we can, but it’s all proving itself quite the elephant to try and eat”.  
Bill squeezed her hand in reassurance. ”One piece at a time, Hill.” He said. “That’s how you eat the elephant….Just take it as it comes and do the best you can. It’ll get done. Just remember the most important thing is not how fast you get it done but that you get it done right”. He offered a smile and wink. “A wise woman told me that once”.  
Hillary smirked and rolled her eyes as he threw her own token advice at her. “Well” she replied, “that woman may have been correct technically but she was also horribly idealistic as it turns out. She’d never lived or worked in the White House”. They shared a giggle each knowing exactly what she meant. In this never-ceasing and unforgiving political world optics and timing were everything. And no matter how quickly one achieved a given goal, it would never be fast enough or good enough. Any achievements would always be quickly forgotten or become obscured bylines overshadowed by glaring headlines that trumpeted even the most minor of missteps and failures.  
In her laughter, she gazed lovingly up at him. Her gorgeous azure eyes held his and Bill felt his heart skip a beat. Those eyes had been the first thing to captivate him when they first met at Yale. Always incredibly expressive, they’d enabled her speak volumes without saying a word. They changed with each mood or emotion; bright and intense when she was focused, warm and serene when she felt loving, sparkling when happy. If she felt playful they emitted a mischievous sparkle. It never ceased to amaze him how fiery and cold they could be when she was angry and those same eyes be so heartbreakingly innocent when she was lost or hurt,irresistibly sexy, seductive, and full of desire when she needed him in their bed. Now, two decades later, they still had the power to elate him or bring him to his knees. To utterly own his heart, mind, and body.  
The pleasant conversation made the task just ahead even more difficult and Bill felt the anxiety rise within him by the second. He had to stop delaying the inevitable. His mind struggled to find some sort of segue but couldn’t find one. There’s no good time for this, he thought, just get it over with. Lost in his thoughts, he looked down at her petite hand still in his as he searched for words.  
Hillary noticed the shift in his countenance. “You okay, Honey?” She asked. “You seem a bit stressed out.”  
Bill swallowed hard and closed his eyes as he mustered the courage to come clean. This was type of hell all its own and it hadn’t yet even begun. Here she was in her last moments of blissful ignorance, unaware that he was just words away from possibly destroying everything they’d worked so hard for years to build together- both personally and professionally. Not only had he betrayed her trust with infidelity, he had betrayed it twice over when he lied repeatedly about it directly to her face. Guilt wracked him to his core and tears welled in his eyes. He frantically blinked them back as he took one last labored breath in. Time to face the music, Bill. Dumb ass.  
“Hillary, I have to talk to you”. His voice was breaking and it held a solemn gravity within it that alarmed Hillary immediately. Finally removing her hand from his, she used it to aid her into a sitting position. She rubbed her eyes and blinked again to clear her vision. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern as she gave him her undivided attention. “Ok… What’s going on?”  
He met her eyes briefly but couldn’t bring himself to hold the contact. He shifted them down to focus on his now free hand fidgeting with the bedcover instead. Hillary felt her stomach inching toward her throat as she read his uncomfortable body language. After twenty- three years of marriage she could read him like an open book. There was no doubt that he was in serious distress about something. He’s not just upset right now, she thought. He’s …scared.  
“I have to tell you something, Babe,” he continued, his voice trembling, “but before I do I want you to know that I-“ His breath caught. “ I do truly love you with all of my heart and I pray one day you’ll be able to … forgive me.”  
Hillary’s heart pounded so hard she felt as though it might eject from her chest. Her worry-stricken face went pale as emotional center immediately shifted to protect itself, screaming internally that if what he had to tell her would require her forgiveness then she didn’t want to know. But intellectually she knew ignorance wasn’t the answer. It had never been the answer to any problem in her life. Hillary Rodham Clinton faced things head-on no matter how frightening, painful or difficult an issue might be. She took a deep, cleansing breath. Full of trepidation, her words came out slow slowly. “Forgive you for what?”  
Bill closed his eyes again as his throat tightened and his heart rate skyrocketed. More than anything he wanted to jump out of his own skin and run- to not have to hurt this woman he loved more deeply and infinitely than he could ever express. He didn’t know how to begin so he forced himself to speak. “The Lewinsky situation” he said. “I um”, he paused again, trying desperately to breathe. He looked up at the ceiling as if hoping for some divine rescue before the rest spilled from his mouth. “I… wasn’t totally honest with you”. He looked up to see her inhale shakily, her eyes already filling with fear, dread. She swallowed hard, attempting to steel herself for a blow she felt coming. “I’m listening”.  
“I screwed up bad, Hill.” Remorse and shame colored his words and wrenched his face as he confirmed what she feared. A tear ran down his right cheek. “I-it didn’t go all the way but it went further than it ever should have. It was really brief and sporadic. I don’t even know why I did it. All I know is that I’ll regret it for the rest of my life and that I’m sorry I let it happen. His eyes finally rejoined with hers as he delivered the last of his confession. “Oh, Christ, Hillary, I’m so sorry”.  
Bill’s heart sank as he took in his wife’s expression. She was digesting his words and reading between the proverbial lines. Her now wide-open eyes were a fiery simultaneous mixture of disbelief, pain, and fury as she shook her head in denial. Her breath quickened. She looked like she’d been stabbed- and he had to admit she had been. He had betrayed her in the worst of ways and her heart was breaking right in front of him. How would – could- he ever repair the damage he’d done? Watching her chest heave and fall more rapidly by the second Bill braced himself for the storm he knew would begin in seconds. He wanted to shy from it but knew he had no right. This storm was one he had created and he resolved to face its wrath and accept the consequences like a man.  
“Hillary, I-“ His words were abruptly halted as her fists slammed into her knees. He sat motionless and slammed his eyes shut. The storm had arrived.  
“What do you mean?!” she yelled as she sprung up from the bed, fists balled at her sides, his shirt askew on her hourglass frame. “You told me there was nothing! What are you saying, Bill?! What did you do ?!” She was gasping for air, reeling. Her gaze traveled the room as if looking for some idea of what to do to help herself gain control – to replace her raw pain with anger. But her usual resolve proved no match for this unexpected assault on her heart. She stifled as sob and clutched her stomach with her right arm, feeling nauseas. She took a few moments to gain some marginal control over her breathing. Tears burned in her eyes as she turned back to him.  
Bill forced himself to look back up at her and immediately wished he hadn’t. Her facial expression, equal parts disgust and hurt, made him feel less than human. “Hillary, I’m so, so sorry.” His voice was full of sincerity and rising panic. He truly was sorry but right now it was an irrelevant fact.  
“Sorry is certainly one way to put it” she retorted, eyes shining with tears. She didn’t realize it but she was physically shaking.  
Bill felt the sting of her remark and nodded his head in acknowledgement that he deserved the dig. “I was so stupid. I wanted to tell you months ago but I didn’t want to do …this to you.”  
“Well, it’s certainly unfortunate that your conscience and common sense took so long to get from one head to the other, Bill” Her voice was trembling and her face was reddening.  
Bill nodded again. “I know. But please know I honestly never meant for any of this to happen and I definitely didn’t want to hurt you…But I did”.  
“Ya think?!” Her tone was ladled with anger as she paced back and forth alongside the bed. Her arms flailed as she ranted. “For God’s Sake, Bill, how old is she? Twenty-something? A child, Bill. A child. That’s pathetic”. Still pacing, she grabbed a fistful of hair at the top of her head and stopped abruptly. Her thoughts were racing faster than she could speak and she was momentarily at a loss for words. She wasn’t sure if she could even continue the confrontation but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the room either. She had so much to say. She was livid both at him and at herself. She had believed him when he told her nothing had happened and she now felt like a fool. The fallout of her husband’s actions would negatively affect every area of their lives, every person close to them. And it would likely shake nation’s confidence in its president.  
Hillary’s volume came down when she continued but the fury remained in her tone. “I cannot believe you would do this to us- especially after everything we have already gone through in the past six years. How many more hits to our credibility would you like to take? How many more legal issues would you like to have? How many more dollars do you want to throw to the wind? We have already spent a fortune- that we don’t have, by the way- in legal fees for bullshit.”  
“I know-“ Bill covered his face with hands. He could feel the weight of it all increasing steadily as she unpacked it all. “Jesus.”  
“And now” Hillary continued, “you give them something real to come after us for? Seriously, Bill, what the hell could you have been thinking?!” Her volume began to increase as the frustration within her mounted. “The GOP and Starr oughtta have a fucking heyday now! And then the people who will be affected by this- our family, our friends, our staff people. Starr has already put those people through a living hell. Several of them are drowning in legal fees themselves because of Whitewater. We are damned lucky they have remained so loyal to us after what they’ve been put through. Some of them I’m surprised still even speak to us. Now I’m supposed to tell them, ‘Oops, sorry, guys, but the president couldn’t keep his pants zipped so I guess now you’ll have to put up your houses in order to clean up his mess?’  
Bill’s heart sank to his feet as he considered it all. This quagmire, he knew, would become bigger and worse long before it ever got better. “I will personally apologize to everybody” He said quietly. “And I’ll figure out a way to raise funds for anyone affected financially.”  
“Oh. Well, how big of you.” She muttered sarcastically. She shook her head. “Damn it, Bill”. Crossing her arms, she found a focal point on the floor and concentrated on it in an attempt to slow down her thinking. Both were silent for several moments as she herself digested all she’d just laid out. Then, like a wave, she felt the pain of betrayal rise within her again. Tears again burned her eyes and her bottom lip quivered as she turned back to him. “And y’know, as bad as all of that is” she began, her voice shaking ,“That’s not even the worst part. I asked you several times, Bill, if anything happened. You looked me right in my face and repeatedly told me there wasn’t anything to worry about. How could you lie to me like that, Bill- to me?” Hot tears spilled onto her cheeks and she brushed them away with her hands.  
Bill was at a loss for words. It was a fair question and he knew it. For over twenty years she had been there; his best friend, his partner, lover, the mother of his child, and his closest confidant. She was and always would be the love of his life and he could not imagine his existence without her. Hurting her had never been his intention. He had simply been lonely, weak, and selfish at a time when they’d been unavailable for one another. He shook his head in dismay as he tried to find the words. “For one, I was completely ashamed of what I’d done. Two, I held back all these months because I was trying to protect you, Hill. You and Chelsea both.”  
At the mention of their daughter’s name, the shock and pain struck her anew. Chelsea. The child adored her father and this news would shake her to her core. Hillary’s stomach lurched as she realized at once that this time there was little she could do to protect her daughter from this heartbreaking disappointment. Her relationship with her father would be strained and once it became public, the teasing and ridicule Chelsea would face from her teenage peers would be merciless. In that moment, the weight of Chelsea’s impending plight coupled with her own pain and anger overpowered her and she broke. A loud, mournful wail erupted from deep within her as the magnitude of the situation became excruciatingly clear. She clutched her stomach again and leaned forward placing a hand on the wall to brace herself.  
For a moment Bill stared at her, stunned. This intense and outward display of raw emotion from her was a departure from the norm and it both frightened and hurt him. Dear God, what had he done? He shot up from the bed and rushed to her side. Every part of him wanted to hold her, comfort her and ease her pain. But as he approached her head snapped up and she raised a hand to stay him “Don’t!”  
Bill stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry”.  
“And what about Chelsea, Bill?” She hollered through her sobbing. “What do we tell our daughter?”  
Bill felt a new pain pierce his heart. Oh Christ. He had been so focused on how to break the news to Hillary that he hadn’t even considered how to handle this scenario with his child. Bill’s eyes immediately flooded with tears and he swallowed hard. He stood for a moment, feeling speechless and useless. He had no good answers for his wife or daughter – or anyone else for that matter. He suddenly felt faint as he stood there, hearing his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. The room itself seemed off-kilter, swaying. He staggered over to the bed and lowered himself slowly to the floor, his back against the decorative footboard. His world had now become a nightmare beyond his expectations. Seeing Hillary in such pain was excruciating. Knowing he’d caused it made it even more unbearable. For what seemed like hours he sat, elbows propped on his bent knees, his head in his hands. As he listened to his wife cry, he loathed himself for his self-centered weakness and lack of control that allowed this to happen. Tears of his own began to flow, dripping onto the brightly patterned carpeting between his feet. Christ, what had he done? He’d known this was going to be painful- but this was more than he could withstand. His mind searched desperately for the right words to say, the right thing to do to soothe her and comfort her even slightly but he could think of nothing that wouldn’t come off as weak or inadequate. Seasoned politician though he was, there was no charming or spinning his way out of this- especially not with Hillary. And his baby girl. His one and only baby. How could he look in those innocent blue eyes and tell her what he’d done to her mother, to her and the rest of their family? He didn’t think he could. He loved and respected her as more than just his daughter. She was a wonderful and irreplaceable friend who brought light and laughter to his world in a way nobody else could. As a small child she loved surprising him with paintings or art projects she’d made in kindergarten and grade school. He’d always proudly displayed them in one way or another in whatever office he was holding at the time. As she grew, father-daughter time evolved from childhood art to more mature activities. She loved to join him in watching his favorite films or listening to him read passages from his favorite books and reciprocating with a few lines from whatever she was reading. This led to a beloved ritual of swapping books each of them had read followed by an opine and critique session over a weekend lunch. Now, as she was entering young adulthood, he found himself so amazed and proud of the lovely and poised young woman she was becoming. She was beautiful, smart, kind- hearted, good humored, responsible, and cared deeply about the world around her. She deserved so many wonderful things in life and she didn’t need to be weighed down by his transgressions. Unfortunately, there would be no shielding her from this reality. She’d have to be told- and not by the press. He came out of his thoughts to realize the room had been overtaken by a somber silence. He looked up to see Hillary sitting on the floor as well with her head and shoulder resting against the wall. She hugged her knees to her chest, still crying but the sobs had quieted to sniffles.  
“You’re going to have to tell her, Bill, you know that”, Her voice cut through the thick air as she turned her head to face him. “I won’t do it. It’s not my place. It’s yours.”  
Bill nodded. “ I understand.”  
Hillary wiped away a few last tears and rose to her feet. Bill sat a few seconds longer before slowly standing himself. Hillary walked back to the bed and grabbed her silk robe from the bedpost. She felt cold and somehow dirty. Used. Thrown away. She desperately wanted a hot shower. She approached him, her facial expression blank and stoic as she locked her eyes on his. The anger, the resolve, was taking over again.  
“When do you go public?” she asked.  
“Monday night. After I’m done with Grand Jury testimony. I’ll give a statement and apologize for… misleading everybody. Then I’ll announce the air raid in Iraq”  
"When are you going to talk to your daughter?”  
Bill considered his answer, knowing there was only one that was acceptable. “I’ll talk to her right now. Where is she?”  
“She spent the night at a friend’s last night. She’ll be home tomorrow afternoon”. Hillary turned to head toward the bathroom.  
“Ok,” Bill said, ”But wait, don’t you wanna be there?”  
Hillary turned back around to face him. “Oh, I’ll be there”, she said quietly, crossing her arms in front of her. “But you will tell her yourself. You’re her father. It’s your job to be a man and to be honest with her. To own up and do what you can to make her feel like her world is still secure.” She paused for a few pulses to let him digest her words. “I’m her mother” she continued, tears welling once more. “My job is to hold her, comfort her, wipe away her tears, and pick up the pieces when it’s all over”. With that, she turned again and walked away, leaving Bill standing alone.  
“Hillary,”, he called after her, "I'm sorry". But the only response he heard was the slam of the bathroom door.


	2. The Drain (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Bill's heartbreaking confession, Hillary is left reeling. Grappling with finding the strength to get through the rest of the day, she makes an unnerving discovery that adds new worry to an already bad situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to be long so I split it up into parts. I try to capture Hillary here as best I can. Enjoy.

THE DRAIN

She didn't know just how long she'd been standing there staring blankly at the white of the shower backdrop. The endless spray of water poured over her head and streamed down her face, mixing with the tears that flowed in kind. At that moment, she didn't know how she could cope with this. Surely, after everything else they'd been through, this had to be the final straw. Her mind bounced back and forth between contacting an attorney and leaving immediately or sticking it out for another year and a half until his term was over. Regardless of their personal woes, she reasoned, she was still the First Lady of the United States and she had a commitment to that role and its obligations. Despite that sense of duty it was difficult to care about it right now. Her emotions and logic were warring about how to feel and how to react.

She was angry, disappointed, and soon to be embarrassed. Yet as furious as she was, she couldnâ€™t ignore her hurting heart and the sense of complete loneliness. The cruel irony was that the only one who could comfort her right now was the man who had broken her heart in the first place. Despite her rage toward him, she now longed intensely for the warmth and safety of his arms. Since that fateful spring day in 1971, Bill had always been her shelter from any storm that came along. No matter how bad things were in the world outside, they had always found comfort and safety each other.

Those memories of security and trust made the unwanted mental images of her husband with that woman even harder to take. How could he do this to their marriage, she wondered. How could he not think about he impact on their family ? How could he do this to her after all these years together? Part of her wanted to question his love for her and cast doubt upon whether or not any of what theyâ€™d shared had ever been real. But she knew better. She was fully aware that Bill did love her immensely. However, he did have a tendency toward self-destructive behavior and, whenever it reared its ugly head she was all too often left to pay the price for it.

Still, she knew he wasnâ€™t just sleeping around. His foolish tryst with Lewinsky had ended long ago. That knowledge didn't make the betrayal hurt any less but at least she knew it was over. Even with that caveat, there was still a hurdle she couldn't reason past. His dishonesty. She would've understood him not offering the information so as to spare her. But to lie repeatedly when she'd confronted him directly? In all the years of marriage, one area of strength in their relationship was the honesty between them. But now....¦

She was going to have to consider the worth of their shared past and present- and how it weighed against his transgression. She needed answers, too. Why did it happen? What had he been thinking? Why didn't he come to her with his needs? She had seen the pain and agony in his eyes as he struggled to finally come clean. Hurting her was killing him and that was evident. As the scene replayed in her mind, she was feeling slightly guilty for how she berating him like she did. At her core she also knew that, for better or worse, she loved him beyond any crisis or event- that she always would. What she didn't know yet was whether or not _love_ was going to be enough to keep them together. She wasn't even sure if the marriage _should_ survive. There were so many questions to be asked and answered in the days and weeks to come. Right now, though, it all felt like a gigantic and confusing blur.

She reached up absent-mindedly to retrieve her shampoo, depositing a small dollop into her palm. As she worked up a lather she stepped forward from the stream of water to breathe in the lavender-scented steam. For a moment, it helpedâ€¦ a little. After finishing in the shower and drying off, she used her favorite lotion to help soothe her skin and infuse her senses with aromatic therapy.  As she applied it she realized what she was actually doing. She was desperately trying to soothe herself. She finished the application on her face and then moved the remaining lotion down her neck to the rest of her upper body. As she moved along the side of her right breast she stopped. Under her fingertips she felt a small round lump near the armpit. She made her way to the bathroom mirror to investigate. Once there, she lifted her arm and continued to investigate. There was nothing visible nor did she feel any lumps under her arm- but it was sore.  She moved back to the lump. It was round, firm and painless she pressed down on it.

 She suppressed a panicky response that suddenly welled within her. _Probably just a fibroid_ , she told herself. But she wasn't convinced. She took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She supposed she'd need to see the doctor to check into it, but at the moment, on this awful day, she was in no mood to worry about it. She had other things on her mind and a full day ahead of her. She wrapped herself in her robe and headed to her vanity to begin painting her face. Before beginning, she simply looked at her own reflection in the mirror. Her usually brilliant blue eyes appeared dull and obscured by the bloodshot whites. The waves of grief kept washing over her, but she fought the urge to cry any more for now. She was going to have to pull it together if she was going to make it through. Drawing from the breathing exercises she had learned in her yoga classes, she closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply and using visualizations in an attempt to clear her mind. The first few breaths were fruitless, but she persisted anyway. With each inhale she envisioned clean, cool air filling her lungs and each exhale she saw an expulsion of dark, negative energy. After several minutes of repetition, her heart rate slowed, her pain and anger began to ease a bit and she felt more calm and in control. While there was no way to breathe away the pain of a broken heart, she now at least felt she could set her tumultuous feelings aside temporarily. She opened her eyes, and proceeded to apply her make-up, a look of determination on her face. She would face the day head on. After all, what was going to top the news she received this morning?

She had a luncheon to attend with an anti-gun group, and then a speech to edit and practice before tonight's engagement. After months of promising Cecile Richards an appearance in support of Planned Parenthood, she was finally scheduled to speak that evening in nearby Arlington at a fundraiser full of volunteers. Her appearance was of course, highly anticipated so cancelling the speech was out of the question. Besides she wouldn't disappoint her good friend and ally. There were other reasons to step into the limelight on this horrible day. As deflated, exhausted, and socially avoidant as she felt at the moment, she'd be fighting condemnation in addition to it all if the First Lady deviated from her schedule and responsibilities. Of course, once Bill addressed the nation on Monday, the press and the public would criticize her anyway. Her husband's misdeeds would somehow be repackaged as her failures. Frustrating as she knew it would be, she had no control over the press or its spin.   But, she sure as hell could control herself and her responses. Nobody would be able to say that she had abandoned her duties because of personal issues with the president- that she cracked under the strain. She felt the stubborn pride within her providing a shot of iron will that circulated through her mind and body like a drug. She was not going to allow this to break her. She would be the pillar of strength the people had entrusted her to be.

She finished her make-up, set a curling iron to her shoulder length hair, and then made her way to the large walk-in closet. She turned on the light with her taupe outfit in mind but thought better of it. She wanted some color- the day had already been drab enough. As she scanned the vast array of professional attire she'd acquired over the years, one in particular caught her eye. A few hangers from the end of the rod hung the medium blue tailored pant suit that earned her compliments each time she wore it. A small smile crossed her lips as she selected it and carried it back to the bedroom to put it on, stopping at her jewelry box on the way. She stood in front of the mirror for a final check before heading out. She had to admit she was fairly pleased with how she looked. The color of the suit brought out her eyes, making them appear even more vividly blue than they already did, and the cut of the garment hugged her hourglass figure in all the right places. A silver choker, matching earrings and bracelet completed the ensemble. She'd accomplished the look she wanted: Collected, polished, and confident. Grabbing her hand purse, she opened the door, turned off the light and took a last deep, cleansing breath. "All right then", she thought out loud. "Hit me with your best shot". With that she stepped out into the world with her game face on. "Oh my God, Hillary!" Cecile entered the backstage area, smiling widely, her arms outstretched as she approached Hillary. Hillary noted and liked the tasteful purple skirt suit she wore. "Awesome speech!" Hillary welcomed and returned the affectionate hug from her longtime comrade. Cecile pulled back and gestured toward the stage "They're still standing and cheering, y'know". Hillary chuckled. "I did notice they are a lively bunch tonight". Cecile's eyes were warm and sincere. "Well, they just love you- and so do I. Thank you for doing this, Sweetheart". "Hey, it was my pleasure", Hillary replied realizing she actually meant it. The raucous yet warm reception from the crowd had been a lift to her spirits. I'm just sorry it took me so long to get to it." "Oh, please don't be". Cecile said grabbing Hillary's hand and gently squeezing it. "I know you're  extremely busy. I was surprised you found time for this at all". Cecile stepped back and her eyes scanned her friend and adult hero from head to toe. "And you look absolutely _gorgeous"._ She arched an eyebrow. "I'm surprised Bill let you go tonight."

Hillary wondered if she grunted audibly as she felt the blow to her gut. She forced a smile. "Well, I haven't seen him this evening. But I know he's really got a lot of work cut out for him this weekend". That was true in more ways than one.

Cecile nodded in understanding. "I can only imagine with everything that's going on. Well... I have to get back out there. Say, do you have to turn into a pumpkin right away tonight or can you stay for a bit?"

Hillary's first impulse was to politely decline and get the hell out of there. All she wanted was to run to her motorcade, get back to her bedroom, and disintegrate into tears. But her head stepped in to remind her of her mission tonight. "Sure!" she said brightly, nodding toward her secret service agents. "I don't have anything else on my schedule tonight, so why not? I'd love to touch base with some of the volunteers, anyway.

Cecile was delighted. "Fantastic! They're gonna love that." She said gesturing Hillary in her direction. "Follow me! My sights are set on the bar. I have a vodka martini calling my name."

 _Well, now_ , Hillary thought as she followed Cecile back out. _That's the best idea I've heard all day._


End file.
